Oops I did it again...

Don't remember how many times have I pledged not to do it but yesterday I did it again. Like a ludomaniac hoping for a better luck this time, I went to see the latest Saruk Khan movie called 'Rab ne bana di jodi' inspite of mother nature trying to stop me with symptoms of Acute Viral Nasopharyngitis..
The latest produce from the Chopra factory with the self-proclaimed able direction from Mr. Aditya Chopra and a double dose of hamming from Saruk has completely flattened me with a sense of complete defeat. I feel cheated, humiliated and my ego bruised badly. How could I be among those people who dared to hope for something sensible from Saruk and Chopra gang?
Actually the movie starts with a rather promising scene with some camera angles taken from the text book and imitating Shyam Benegal and like...all looks well and things become interesting when we know under what cirucmstances Suri and Taani had to marry each other. (Ofcourse there are a couple of ham scenes from the father of Taani which anyone who is familiar with hindi movies, can bear easily). Things begin to fall apart when Saruk opens his mouth and spits out the dreaded lines on his cell phone.. "Surinder Sahni ji, Punjab power, Lighting up your life ji". Aaaaaaargh, all the while when one is thinking that Suri is an average joe, he suddenly becomes an idiot, a Saruk khan with glasses, plain hair and a mustache trying to make his fans laugh. (And believe me, his fans do laugh...I think the fact that Saruk is trying to make them laugh is sufficient for them to laugh). And then the rest is no-story.. A train of so called 'funny' scenes starts.. In some of them Suri Saruk tries to make people laugh and in others Raj Saruk does the same thing. As per the 'demand of the script' Taani finds Raj Saruk lovable against all common sense. Ofcourse the director has provided two solid evidences that Taani had no option but to love Raj Saruk because he can eat more Pani Puri's than she can and he proclaims his love at the cost of Punjab power and a forced load shedding on Amritsarians. Taani's dream sequences and the songs really make one wonder about her sensibility. No point in talking about how Suri Saruk shows his love for Taani in the fair.
One may wonder, if Suri can become so dashing, adorable and smart in a flash just by changing clothes and hairdo, why didn't he do it earlier? Why would he live and talk like a 'filmi' common man?
These questions are safely ignored as usual assuming that the audience always has a lower IQ than the director.
What happens next, how the movie ends is not really important. What is important is that it finally ends.

Enemy of the state.

"Archanaaaaa, I'm getting late.. is my lunch box ready yet?" Anil yelled as soon as he was done tying his shoe laces. Then he looked at his watch and sweared,"This bloody muster thing has made my life difficult". His wife hurrried out of the kitchen with a tiffin and a water bottle in her hands and handed over to him. He sneaked a glance at her while putting his tiffin into his bag. She is beautiful, he thought, inspite of all her undone hair and wrinkled clothes . He was proud of his wife and more so of his son. Shshank, his son, was studying at one of the finest english schools in Mumbai. The school was surely costly and it was impossible to afford for a man with his salary. But he not only managed that but also had all the best of the best things at his wife's service. Washing machine, microwave, double door fridge.. you name it. Ofcourse he liked the most recent item he bought.. 40 inches plazma television set. He surely loved his family with all his heart. He chuckled and set off to the train station. With a mechanical efficiency and an air of authority he found his way through the thick crowd to the usual bogey and to his usual seat. His usual fellow commuters made some space for him and exchanged the usual pleasantaries with him. Once settled comfortably on his seat, he picked up his thought train again. Archana wanted to go to bangkok for the Diwali holidays. She was unhappy to hear all the stories from Mrs. Subramaniam about her trip to Bangkok last year.
"Bangkok", he thought, "must be a lovely place. Diwali is just a month away and haven't seen Gafoor for a long time. I'll call him today", he decided with a tinge of worry.
He managed to sign the muster in time and headed straight to the canteen ignoring the long queue of people spiraling outside of the office door. After thoroughly enjoying each sip of his usual morning cup of tea and after a couple of unsuccessful attempts to get through to Gafoor's mobile, he returned back to his seat. "Shinde, Let them come", he ordered the peon. He spent the rest of the morning restlessly, trying to concentrate on his work or evasion of it. He was trying to get rid of an old lady from the local fisharman community when Shinde brought the good news. "Waghmare saheb, Gafoor bhai canteen mein aayela hai..", Shinde announced. Anil's mood changed, whistling a latest bollywood tune, he started towards the canteen at once. As expected, Gafoor was sitting at a table with three men with him.
"Salam Gafoor bhai. Long time no see?", Anil asked cheerfully.
"Walekum assalam Waghmare saab.", Gafoor replied smiling, "I had gone back to my village. That's why did not have a chance of your 'deedar' ".
"Okay. So what brings you here", Anil asked coming to the point.
"Usual stuff.", Gafoor replied casually. "These three are my fellow villagers. Need a domicile certificate for a taxi licence. This is Ramsharan Sharma, Azharuddin Sheikh and Asif Ali".
The three men mumbled their greetings as their names were announced. Anil smiled and threw a questioning glance towards Gafoor. "Fifteen", Gafoor proposed. Anil smiled again, like a man who is pleased with himself. Signaled the canteen boy for five teas, then turned back to Gafoor and said, "Fifty". Before Gafoor could protest, he added, "Asif bhai seems to be from Bengal". Gafoor's face reddened. Apologising profusely, Gafoor started telling how he thought it was okay not to tell that Asif was from West Bengal.
"West Bengal?", Anil asked shrewdly," or Bangladesh?" .
Gafoor was silent for some time, then picked his mobile and dialled. "Fifty to Waghmare Saab's house", Gafoor ordered on the phone.
Anil was whistling again when he returned to his seat. His mood was so much elated that he even accepted the old woman's form and told her that he'll make sure her grandson gets a domicile certificate in a week. He spent the rest of the day working on the three domicile certificates finishing just in time to catch the 6'O clock fast train. All through the journey to home, he was calculating how much he can have for himself and day dreaming about how he would spend the time in Bangkok with his family this Diwali holidays. 2007 had been a great year for him and this was an icing on the cake.

******************************************************

Anil was having his first morning tea, sitting in front of the TV, watching intently. It was almost 48 hours since that deadly attack on the city. The news channels were covering the current situation at the hot spot where many people were held hostages, and also iterating and re-iterating the incident. Tushar, Anil's young brother in law, was sitting beside him cursing the terrorists and the politicians alike. Anil was in full agreement with him.
The news reporter was re-iterating how the terrorists landed on one of the jetties and how they took taxies to reach different parts of the city when again a breaking news came about a break through that Mumbai police had had. "The police have arrested a man who had provided shelter and taxi service to the terrorists during the time when they came here to study the locations about a month ago.", the news reporter said, "The man also allegedly picked some of the terrorists from the jetty on the night of attack. The police caught him after a description given by a boy from local fisherman community who saw the man driving some strangers away from the jetty".
"That taxi driver must be some deshdrohi. He must be hanged", said Tushar grinding his teeth adding curse word used for a particular community, "And the politicians who harbour these people for vote bank".
Anil was going to say something when he saw that a photo of the taxi driver was flashing on the screen. It was Asif!! Anil's heart skipped a beat, his throat dried.
"These politicians have sold the nation", Tushar was saying.
Anil could not bring himself to nod in agreement.

First

Every morning, I wake up with a thread of thoughts as if someone had laid it down while I was sleeping to be picked up by my mind in the morning. Rarely I remember my dreams and don't know exactly when the thread starts. Some days the thoughts are very depressing and some days cheerful and some days just weird. Everyday my mind plays around the thread, dipping it into numerous shades of emotions and turning it into queer shapes. Usually the thread would end as sleep engulfs me in the night and a new thread would start next morning. And so I have lost a number of threads which just faded away like ripples on water.
But now I have decided to try and put those threads on the pages like we used to do in school with real threads dipped in colours, putting them between two pages and pulling to produce random impressions.
May be many of those shapes will not make any sense but chances are that some of them might turn into wonderful pictures.